


love me tender

by msmelinamercury



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, POV Second Person, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt, but nothing too serious, it's all cute here kids, it's just dumb cute stuff, mentions of some past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 01:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmelinamercury/pseuds/msmelinamercury
Summary: Jim and Freddie share a night cuddling on the couch as any power-couple would.
Relationships: Jim Hutton/Freddie Mercury
Comments: 9
Kudos: 41





	love me tender

_prompt: “it’s scary how much i love you” _

It’s Saturday night, and instead of dancing from club to club and throwing back drinks, you’re both cuddled onto the couch. You’re wearing your pajamas, though you’re not wearing the flannel shirt that comes along with the set. Freddie always likes it when he’s got bare skin to rest on. He enjoys how close it makes you feel, how real it makes everything. It’s not just some quick, meaningless little fling you’ve got going on here—it’s love, real and true.

He’s dozing off, eyelids drooping in a losing battle against sleep. You’ve already suggested calling it a night and going to bed early, but he protested against that idea, saying that he needed to see if Lara Jean and Peter K got together (you reminded him that you’ve both seen this film more than a few times—it’s kind of a guilty pleasure—and he responded by snuggling closer.)

Stubborn little thing, you don’t mind letting him have his way, though.

He’s really losing his battle, though. The little designs he’s been tracing over your chest with his forefinger have been getting slower and sloppier. It’s disgustingly adorable, and it reminds you just what about him is so special (besides, well, absolutely everything else.) You have a feeling you’re going to be carrying him to bed tonight and not until the movie’s over, lest you want to get an earful and a pouty face.

You kind of _do_ want the pouty face—it’s cute as ever-loving fuck, the way his bottom lip juts out and his eyebrows draw together.

But you also know he’ll take your slight of interrupting Lara Jean and Peter K quite seriously and he’ll be cross about it until the morning. Because it’s not going to be so much about them not being taken seriously as it is about him feeling like he’s not being taken seriously. And you take him seriously.

“Mmph,” his dark eyes blink open and he looks up at you, resting his chin on your chest.

“Mmph to you too.”

His eyes narrow in a teasing warning, but they soften as you brush back his hair and smile at him. “Enjoying the movie so far?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“What?” you ask in mock incredulity. “I was asking you how you liked the movie!”

“You were _teasing_,” he’s giggling, burying his face into your chest, mumbling. “I can’t help that I fall asleep easily, you’re so comfortable.”

“I’m glad I’m a good pillow,” you pet his hair slowly—he’s been growing it out a little ever since he cut it a little while back, it’s nice. “It’s a good thing I can be that for you.”

He lifts his face and pulls himself up, closer to your face.

“Oh, Darling, no,” he sighs. “You’re…bloody fucking hell, you’re just damn near perfect-“

You laugh. “_Near_?”

“Well, maybe you could stop asking me to clean the flat-“

“I see.”

He rolls his eyes, and he seems to change his tone, trying to get more serious amongst all the giggling and levity. “I just…” he looks down, his tongue flicks nervously between his lips and he bites down on his bottom one, eyes searching for the right words. “I know you don’t love when I talk about everyone else, but…I just remember going from bed to bed, you know, never feeling like I was enough, always feeling like I was just a box to tick on someone’s list. And I remember at some point…I don’t even remember when; I just thought about how I can’t fall in love. I can’t just let myself…be vulnerable with anyone, because the minute I do that is the minute I can get hurt again.”

You listen with intent, nodding as he talks and rhythmically running your fingers through his hair. He smiles, and it shakes a little bit, but he keeps strong. “I didn’t want to fall in love again and then…well, I met you.”

He pokes your chest, and you smile down at him. “I love you, too,” you say.

Freddie’s smile blooms, and he gets closer, nuzzling into your neck. “Christ, I love you so much,” he says. “It’s scary how much I love you.”

You run your hand slowly down his back, resting your hand on the small of it. “It doesn’t have to be scary, Darling. You don’t have to be scared of being in love.”

“I know that, and I’m trying not to be,” he sighs and shifts back to look at you. “But even so, I like being scared. I like this feeling of…being yours, of letting myself finally buy into the little dreams. I love being in love with you, no matter how much it fucking scares me. Does that make sense?”

It does, and you nod. You found a boy, one that had been tossed around like a toy, and he was having a hard time learning how to open himself up again. But he was doing it, and he was doing it all by himself—he’d fought for himself, dragged himself out of the muck and mire. He’ll credit you for saving him, but you know he’s the hero of his own story. You’re just the one to tend to his wounds, to welcome him home after a long day’s fight.

And you don’t want to flatter yourself, but you’ve always been a pretty decent caretaker. You like to do that, to tend to things, watch them grow and blossom even when the weeds surround them and try and choke them out. Flowers fight for themselves, but someone like you is there to help when they might need it, to admire them on their journey, and to make sure they feel as beautiful, as miraculous as you see them being.

The credits start rolling, and you both look over at the television screen. Freddie giggles. “Well, drat. Now we’ll _never_ know if they got together.”

“Want me to rewind it?”

Freddie shakes his head, resting on you. “Mm, no. I think I’m ready for bed,” he sighs, and he smiles softly up at you. “Carry me?”

You chuckle, pulling him in for a kiss, which he absolutely melts into.

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't think I was going to post this one but I've fallen a bit too hard for it myself. I think I'm discovering a niche and I think that niche is writing 2nd-Person POVs for Jim.


End file.
